


King and Queen in the North

by fanetjuh



Series: Jonsa Week [91]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Post-Canon Fix-It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-24 15:27:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21960166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fanetjuh/pseuds/fanetjuh
Summary: Sansa and Jon are home and about to be crowned Queen and King in the North. Jon has his doubts, his past mistakes still fresh and raw, but he know that he wants to make Sansa the Queen she has been for a long time already.
Relationships: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark
Series: Jonsa Week [91]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/576145
Comments: 10
Kudos: 68





	King and Queen in the North

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the GOT secret santa 2019

Jon tensed his shoulders while his youngest sister draped the cloak around his broad shoulders. If it had been up to him, he’d be riding towards the far North right now, without obligations, without pressure, without a heavy crown on his head. But it wasn’t just up to him. It was also up to Sansa.

Once he had promised her to go wherever she wanted to go. And this was where she wanted to be. It was also where she belonged.

And he belonged next to her. He belonged with her. And despite the heavy weight of the crown and the pressure he already felt on his shoulders, he knew he would’ve never forgiven himself if he had fled to the North.

“Ready?” Arya curled her lips up into a smile. She was still shorter than him, but she was no longer the little girl he had once left behind. She had grown up. And she had grown up into a beautiful young woman ready to explore the world.

After the coronation.

“As ready as I can be.”He let out a deep sigh. “She’ll be an amazing queen. I’ll just be standing next to her.”

Arya’s smile brightened. “I’m happy for you.”

Jon forced himself to smile at her. “I never wanted to be King. But she’s made to be Queen and if I’m the one who can make her one…” He swallowed. “I just hope this run will be better than the previous one.”

“Well…” Arya cocked her head. “As long as you don’t travel to the south and deliver the Kingdom on a silver platter to a pretty girl with dragons, I’m sure it will be fine.”

Jon bent his head. “I learned my lesson. I’m letting Sansa do the politics.”

“Good.” Arya nodded at him and she leaned on the tips of her toes to wrap her arms around his neck. “The North needs her, but it needs you too.”

“You’re the one who saved it by killing the Night King.” Jon wrapped his arms around her and lifted her feet from the floor. “You shouldn’t leave.”

Arya shrugged. “I’m not made to stay in one place too long, but I know the way home. I’ll come back. Promise.”

The bells started ringing and Jon straightened his back while he rearranged his cloak once more. “Here we go.” He stepped into the hallway.

A million candles lighted his path towards the great hall. The hallway was deserted and each and every step echoed loudly in the deafening silence.

But the moment he halted in front of the giant double doors he stopped breathing.

She looked beautiful. She looked more beautiful than he had ever seen her. There was a pretty shimmer in her eyes that had never been there before. And even though for once she was not wearing any complicated braids in her hair, having her hair down like that made her seem older and wiser and more a Daughter of the North than she had ever been.

And then there was the dress she was wearing. It was impossible to see all the details in the weak light, but he smiled when he saw how each part of her, her history and the North’s was present.

“San…” He shook his head. “You look amazing.” He placed his hands on her shoulders. “You’ll be the most amazing Queen the world has ever known.”

Sansa bent her head and she tucked a strand of loose red hair behind her ear. “I’m glad you’re here with me, Jon.”

Jon rolled his eyes. “I really wasn’t a good King the last time we tried this. I’m really not sure if this is a good idea.”

“Are you planning on giving the North to someone else again?” Sansa raised her eyebrows, a playful smile around her beautiful red lips. “Because up until then you actually did pretty great.”

“That great that you had to challenge me in the throne room in front of my people.”

Sansa rolled her eyes. “We all make mistakes, Jon.”

“Some a little more than others.”

Sansa reached for his hands and with her thumbs she rubbed her knuckles. “Jon…” She locked her glance with his. “We need each other. And you’re not the only one who made mistakes.”

“You were only a girl trying to stay alive in the castle of the enemy.” Jon raised his voice.

“And you were only trying to protect your Kingdom against a danger none of us truly understood. We needed her dragons, you got them for us and when it really and truly mattered, you did the right thing.”

“What if they will come here and start a new war?”

“They won’t.” Sansa shook her head firmly. “They’re soldiers without a leader, people without a Queen. They know if they start a war with the North they will lose.”

He wanted Sansa to be right, more than anything. The North had been through enough. Enough families had lost people they cared about. Enough buildings, houses and cities had been destroyed. Enough wars had been fought. And if Daenerys’ troops or her dragon would show up, it would be his fault.

“If you hadn’t killed her, she would have burned down Winterfell, all the people in it, everyone in all the cities surrounding it.” Sansa moved a little closer towards him. “If they come, we will be ready. But if I would be leading them, I wouldn’t come. We’re not the only ones tired of war and fighting. And they have nothing to fight for. They only have something to fight against.” Sansa pecked his cheek. “And we both know what’s stronger.”

Jon nodded. “Are you ready?”

Sansa smiled. “I was born ready. Are you ready?”

“I’m always ready for anything I share with you.” He reached for her hand and Sansa’s palm pressed to the back of his hand.

Her palm was sweating, but when she straightened her back and towered over him she looked already the Queen she was about the become.

With slow and steady steps they entered the great hall. All their bannermen, those who had fought, those who had survived, knelt down on the cold floor when they walked past them.

This was the North. These were his people. The crown was heavy, yes. But when he saw all those faces, happy because they didn’t need to bow for a foreign King anymore, for people who didn’t understand the North. When he saw Sansa, the smile around her lips and the way she carried herself while the entire crowd was watching. He knew this was the right thing to do.

When they reached the front of the great hall they turned around. The great hall was full, everyone who could be here, everyone who wanted to be here, everyone who belonged here, was here.

They still wanted him to be King. They also wanted Sansa to be Queen.

Despite their mistakes.

“Jon Snow, son of Lyanna Stark, raised by Eddard Stark. I hereby crown you King in the North.”

The crown landing on his curls was still heavy, a replica of the crown his brother had once worn, a replica of the crown countless of other Kings had carried.

Some had died. Some had not. But they all had one thing in common.

They were the North.

Like Jon. Like Sansa.

A small smile spread across his face while everyone around him started chanting. Louder. Deafening. They shouted, despite all the wrongs he had done.

“King in the North. King in the North. King in the North.”

It seemed to take minutes before the voices stopped and Jon cleared his throat while he lifted the wonderful new crown from the pillowcase Arya held firmly and proudly.

“Sansa Stark, daughter of Eddard Stark, daughter of the North. I hereby crown you my Queen. Queen in the North.” He placed the crown, the giant dire wolf, on her red hair and when the crowd started shouting again it sounded like music, the most wonderful music he had ever heard.

Queen in the North. Queen in the North. Queen in the North.

The smile on his face brightened and he pressed the palms of his sweating hands to Sansa’s glowing cheeks. “Sansa Stark…” He spoke softly, even though he didn’t have to. “You have no idea how much I love you.”

Sansa smiled back at him and she curled her fingers around his wrists. “I do. You would’ve left with the Wildlings if you hadn’t loved me this much. And I have no idea, Jon Snow, how I can ever thank you, how I can ever show you how much I love you.”

“Marry me.” Jon blurted the words out and slowly he fell down on one knee. “Marry me, Sansa Stark, Queen in the North.”

She kept silent for an awfully long time and then she reached for his hands and pulled him up again. “Of course, Jon!” She wrapped her arms around his neck and then her lips touched his.

The weight on his shoulders lifted. The crown all of a sudden didn’t feel as heavy any more and there was no longer a place where he’d rather be.


End file.
